


Everything is Green

by manycoloureddays



Series: i'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22923511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manycoloureddays/pseuds/manycoloureddays
Summary: Watching them fly, watching Lucas celebrate after putting the Quaffle through a fifth time, watching Max narrow in on a target and wallop the Bludger across the pitch, it was the first time he’d been interested in Quidditch.or: Mike wears Lucas and Max's quidditch colours, 1985 & 1991.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair/Mike Wheeler
Series: i'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/447319
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Everything is Green

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dgalerab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dgalerab/gifts).



> this was inspired by and written for dgalerab, whose incredible headcanons and gorgeous are can be found on tumblr (because for some reason ao3 won't let me include the link)

It was late when Mike snuck out of the subdued Gryffindor common room. 

Snuck might be the wrong word. Most people had gone to bed early  — or at least, early for a Saturday  — after their horrendous performance against Slytherin in the first Quidditch match of the season. Mike would have let himself be swept along with the general mood in his House if it hadn’t also been Lucas and Max’s first time flying for Slytherin. As it was, he was mostly just looking forward to celebrating with them. Watching them fly, watching Lucas celebrate after putting the Quaffle through a fifth time, watching Max narrow in on a target and wallop the Bludger across the pitch, it was the first time he’d been interested in Quidditch.

The only two people left to sneak past when he got to the common room were Steve, who used to be Gryffindor captain and now spent most of his time acting like he’d never seen a broom, let alone won trophies on one, and Robin, who used to spend Quidditch matches indoors and only started wearing red and gold on match days once Steve left the team. 

Mike wasn’t entirely sure he understood their friendship, but neither of them batted an eye when he left, just raised their glasses in a silent toast, so he figured it didn’t matter. 

He ran down the corridor, skidding around corners, and not worrying about the way his footsteps echoed in the dark with five minutes still left till curfew. 

He was determined not to be the last one downstairs tonight.

Mike was at the top of the staircase leading down to the Entrance Hall when he heard Dustin hissing at the bottom. He grinned, shaking his head. He could just make out Will’s exasperated expression as he tried to get Dustin to “shhh please”. Will was never quite forceful enough though; he was too kind, and found Dustin’s ramblings amusing. 

Dustin had never been good at the silent part of sneaking around Hogwarts at night. There was almost always something he just had to say “real quick. Honest. But seriously, guys, did you know … ?” 

They’d never been caught, but Mike was pretty sure that was because Lucas was getting faster at putting a hand over Dustin’s mouth at opportune moments, and El had always been  _ really _ good at Disillusionment charms. 

So far, the only suspicious one in the castle was Mrs Norris, and Mews was protective enough of Dustin that the crazy old cat didn’t try to make trouble for them.

He muttered a Silencing Charm at his feet, and tiptoed down the stairs, dodging the trick ones carefully. He may or may not  have had a habit — almost certainly did, but would never admit that out loud in case certain parties got wind of it and mocked him mercilessly — of getting stuck in the trick stairs. 

Will caught his eye just before his hand landed on Dustin’s shoulder and the resulting giggle and screech had Mike bent double trying to keep his own laughter quiet. 

“You three are too loud,” a voice whispered, and El emerged from the shadows.

Dustin clutched at his heart. “How do you manage to do that? How does she manage to do that? You shouldn’t be able to sneak up on us still.”

El’s grin grew as Dustin waffled on. Will tipped his head,  _ shall we? _ , and Mike and El nodded, each of them taking one of Dustin’s arms and dragging him to the dungeons with them. 

He didn’t stop talking the whole way down. 

  
  


The Slytherin Common Room glittered green in the underwater light. Mike had always liked it down there. The way the water from the lake seemed to absorb the noise, it was so unlike the chaos of his own common room. It was easy to lose himself to a daydream when Lucas and Dustin got really into a game of chess, looking out the window and locking eyes with a mermaid or, on one memorable occasion, the Giant Squid. It was a nice change of pace.

Nancy said he spent more time in the dungeons than a Gryffindor should, but who died and made her the boss of ‘should’ anyway?

They walked through the door and into a wall of noise; the whole house was up celebrating the win. 

Most of the attention was on the two newest team members. Lucas stood at the centre of the room, his arm around Max’s shoulders, soaking it up. Max’s arms were crossed and she was rolling her eyes, but she hadn’t pulled away and her face was veering more towards her  _ shut up, this is not a smile _ face. Mike should know, he’d been on the receiving end of that face more than he’d been on the receiving end of a genuine Mayfield smile. Also more than he’d been on the receiving end of an actual glare recently. Which was, you know. Progress.

Dustin and El made a beeline for the centre of the crowd. Mike watched as Dustin whacked Lucas on the shoulder in congratulations and stole his butterbeer. El slipped her hand into Max’s and the two girls bent their heads together to hear each other over the noise. 

“Mike?” 

He startled. Will was standing at his side. He hadn’t realised he was still by the door with him. “Uh,” he cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

Will smiled, knowingly. An expression Mike had been seeing on his face more and more, and he did not like the implications of it. Mainly that Will knew something he didn’t know. He liked to be the one that knew things. “You going to come congratulate them?”

“Oh. Yeah. Yes. Come on,” and then he tugged Will into the gaggle like it had been his idea in the first place. He knew Will wouldn’t call him on it.

“There you are,” Max said, finally letting a full blown grin light up her face. “I was starting to think you were sulking.”

Mike looked at her, baffled, then turned to Lucas to share a Look. Lucas’ grin was slightly hesitant though. 

“Why would I be sulking?” He had a feeling that being confused wasn’t the right response, but it was also the only one he had.

“‘Cause Max maybe broke Charlie Weasley’s nose with that Bludger?” Lucas said, casual, pulling Max into his side and tapping her nose. She batted his hand away.

Mike frowned. He only knew Charlie Weasley to nod at, maybe to pass food across the table at meal times.

“‘Cause Lucas scored more points than the entire Gryffindor team combined?” Max continued. “‘Cause we trounced you? Plus you were lurking over by the door like a weirdo, Weirdo. Take your pick.”

“That’s stupid - ” Mike began.

“You’re stupid,” Max bit back, automatic.

Mike stuck his tongue out at her. “Lucas is my best friend. You’re, you know, a person I kind of tolerate.” Lucas groaned, but Max beamed, just like Mike knew she would. “And besides, when have I ever been one of those ‘ra-ra Gryffindor’ types?” 

“So you don’t mind supporting us when we win?” Max asked, her smile sly. Mike did not like that smile. That smile meant trouble. Trouble for him, specifically. 

Mike looked around the room, movements exaggerated for effect, but he kept a careful eye on Lucas, watching for his reaction. “I’m at your party, aren’t I?” 

Lucas smiled, a softer, warmer smile than the one he’d worn for the rest of his House. Mike grinned back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone pass Max something behind her back, but Mike couldn’t see what it was. 

“You’re not really dressed for a Slytherin party though,” Lucas said, musing, dragging Mike’s attention back to him. He looked down at himself. Dark jeans, grey jumper. It wasn’t like he’d dressed in red or anything. He hadn’t even really dressed in colour. Grey was almost silver, wasn’t it?

Before he could ask what the problem was, Max threw the hidden something at Mike’s head. He spluttered, dragging the heavy cloth off his face, and glaring at her as she laughed. El, Dustin, and Will all burst into giggles too, and Mike glared at them before turning to look at Lucas, beseeching. 

“Come here,” Lucas chuckled, brushing Mike’s hair out of his face for him. For a brief moment, Mike almost leant into his hand. Fortunately, Lucas had already moved on, shifting his attention to the cloth, which, Mike realised when he looked down, was an enormous Slytherin flag. Lucas pulled the flag tight around Mike’s shoulders, so he was wearing it like a cape. “There you go, now you look like you belong.”

Max elbowed him in the side, a little sharper than strictly friendly. Bouncing up onto her tiptoes, she slung an arm around his shoulder. The angle was still slightly off, but he slouched to make it work. “We’ll make a Slytherin out of you yet, Wheeler.”

*

“Should we wake him?” Lucas asked Max, knowing full well she’d say no.

She didn’t bother looking up from the notebook on the tiny train table in front of her. “No.”

“Are you saying that because he’s exhausted and this is the first time he’s slept in days, or because his head keeps hitting the window when we go round the bends?”

Max seemed to genuinely consider the question, humming as she chewed on the end of her quill. She shrugged. “Both, probably.”

Lucas shook his head, grinning. He watched her for a few moments. The pages in front of her were covered in lines and arrows and tiny names that moved when she prodded them. She blew at the hair that kept falling into her face six times before huffing and pulling out a scrunchie.

The train took a sharp corner, Mike’s cold tea sloshing out of the paper cup and onto his lap as his head hit the window again with a dull  _ thunk _ . 

Lucas sighed. For someone so incredibly smart, his boyfriend was really dumb sometimes. 

They weren’t due into Hogsmeade for another two hours, so he rolled up his scarf and gently tucked it under Mike’s head, careful not to move him too much because prior experience told him that even the slightest jostling from him would wake Mike when the sharp pain in his head wouldn’t. 

He tucked Mike’s curls behind his ear and smiled. Green and silver had always looked good against Mike’s dark hair. Telling him that usually led to a pinched expression, a lecture on how he was “still a bloody Gryffindor, get that snake shit away from me,” and if they were very lucky some crossed arms and pouting. 

Naturally, Lucas and Max both said it as often as they could.

  
  


Mike had a preternatural ability to wake up just before they arrived anywhere, so Lucas started to pack up all the detritus that collected anytime they travelled as soon as Mike started to stir. They pulled into the station five minutes later, stepping off into a crowd of parents up to see the first Quidditch match of the year. 

“Ugh. Remind me why we took the train again.” Max’s jumper rode up a little as she stretched, and she grinned when she noticed both Lucas and Mike staring at the tiniest bit of stomach the movement exposed. 

“Because you don’t like to Apparate, and Mike’s afraid of flying,” Lucas offers, used to this conversation by now. They’ve had it every match Slytherin’s played since Max started working at Hogwarts and coaching the team last year. 

“Oh, right.” She swiped ink off her fingers onto the back of Mike’s shirt. “Well, come on then.”

Mike griped about how he wasn’t afraid of flying all the way up to the castle. It didn’t change the fact that any time Lucas had tried to take him up on a broom since their first disastrous flying lesson he closed his eyes, clung tight around Lucas’ middle, and swore creatively until his feet were back on solid ground. 

Lucas and Mike went ahead to the professor’s box in the Quidditch stands, leaving Max to give a pep talk to the team in the change rooms. None of them felt particularly comfortable sitting with their former teachers, but they did get fantastic views of both ends of the pitch, so they dealt with it.

Mike refused to make eye contact with Lucas as he pulled a hand knitted Slytherin scarf  — a post divorce Karen Wheeler original  — out of his backpack and wound it around his neck. Next came the green gloves, green and silver beanie, and green cloak that, on close inspection, had definitely belonged to Max at one point. 

“Did you lose a bet?” Lucas asked. Mike shook his head. “Is it somehow April Fool’s Day?”

“It’s November.”

“Did I forget Max’s birthday?” he teased, “did I forget  _ my  _ birthday?” Then, with slight trepidation. “Shit, did I forget an anniversary of some kind? What month did we start dating you?”

“Lucas.” Mike said, trying to keep a straight face and almost succeeding. He rolled his eyes to compensate for the smile he couldn’t quite contain. 

“M _ ike _ . It’s a fair question. You’re wearing more green than I am!”

“Michael Wheeler,” Professor McGonagall’s voice came from behind them, sharp as ever, and they both sat up straight. “What on earth are you wearing?”

Lucas watched, delighted, as the tips of Mike’s ears turned red. “Oh, hello Professor. Lovely day?”

“You are a member of my house, are you not?” McGonagall continued, never one to be distracted. “Our colours are gold and red, Mr Wheeler.”

“Yes, Professor.” Mike poked Lucas when he started chuckling. “Only, Gryffindor aren’t playing today. And, well, Max … ”

“Michael,” McGonagall said, starting to smile herself now. “I’m teasing. It’s good to see you boys.” She sat down in the row behind them, turning to talk to Professor Clarke. 

Max arrived five minutes later, cheeks flushed. She produced the enormous old Slytherin flag from behind her back, and secured it around Mike’s shoulders. 

“There,” she said. “You look like a proper Slytherin now.”

Lucas laughed so hard at Mike’s scowl he fell off his seat. 


End file.
